


The Cottage Next Door

by suitesamba



Series: The Cottage Series [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 17:22:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/suitesamba/pseuds/suitesamba
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape, vacationing by the sea, finds a young Albus Severus Potter at his door one day, asking for help because his father has been hurt. It’s Severus Snape to the rescue in this half-baked fairy tale of Severus getting to know Harry Potter through his children.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cottage Next Door

What— _who?_ —was making that infernal noise?

“Open up! We need help!”

The child’s voice was clearly audible through the open porch window. Why was there a _child_ on his porch? In the ten years that he’d been spending the summer at the sea, no _child_ had ever dared intrude on his hard-won peace and quiet.

Come to think of it, no _adult_ had either.

And he deserved to be left alone! He spent ten months of the year running a school, for Merlin’s sake! A school with _hundreds_ of children. Two months—well, six weeks, in actuality—spent alone, reading, drinking the elf-made wine and decent scotch the faculty always gave him for Christmas—was small recompense for the other ten months of the year.

“Please! Mister!”

Severus sighed deeply as he pulled open the door and looked down at…at…

No.

“Mister!”

The small boy looked up at him through too-long fringe, green-eyes bright with tears.

The boy quickly took his hand and tugged.

“Our Da’s hurt. We need help! Please!” The boy was insistent, pulling on his hand and actually dragging Severus several steps out onto the porch. 

Severus was not wearing shoes. He’d come in from the beach a short while ago and had left his sandy sandals next to the door.

He pulled away from the small, sweaty hand and held his ground.

“What has happened to your father?” he asked. “And where do you live?” 

The boy grabbed onto the pocket of his trousers. Well, saying trousers was rather generous. They were shorts, actually. The kind that came down to the knees and, if were to be honest, looked more like old-fashioned women’s pedal pushers than the kind of shorts a man would wear in the year 2000.

“He fell! He slid in the water from our feet and hit his head on the table and there’s _blood_ and James said to GET HELP!”

James. If there was any doubt before—and there wasn’t, not really—that this little boy belonged to Harry Potter, there was certainly no doubt now.

But there were no other cottages within walking distance! He remembered that only as the boy led him by the hand down the porch stairs then trotted ahead of him across the walk, down the lane a piece then through the garden into another clearing.

“Oh Merlin’s handbag!” said the boy, beginning to cry. “I forgot! You can’t see it!”

Severus stared over the boy’s head—at the ocean. Fidelius? There was a Fidelius Charm in use next door and he didn’t know it? After all these years? He had inherited the cottage from Albus himself and he… Oh. Dumbledore. Of course.

“You will have to bring you father outside. Go—there is nothing else for it. Drag him, if you have to. I cannot get in until he allows me in. At least get him partway out. Go now—hurry!”

The boy got to his feet and disappeared into the air a moment later.

It seemed to take an inordinately long time, but then again, the boy was small and his brother could not be much older. Severus seemed to recall—not that he paid much attention to these things, mind you—that the Potter boys had been born one after the other. How many more years until they started at Hogwarts? He really should keep better track of these things in order to plan his retirement.

A tousled head appeared, attached to a small, wiry body. The boy was grunting with effort.

“Push, Al! Lils, out of the way. Be careful. Lils!”

Severus hurried forward. The boy stared at him with alarmed brown eyes. 

“Headmaster Snape!” His eyes were half terrified. “Where…I didn’t…AL!”

Severus gently pushed the boy aside and grabbed hold of Harry’s shoulders. There was blood—a _lot_ of blood. Potter’s face was pale but he was breathing. Severus pulled him out onto the grass and bent down to examine him.

“Who is the secret keeper?” he asked James.

“Can’t tell,” mumbled James.

Al had appeared again, and a small girl, red-headed, beside him.

“Get me towels,” he instructed, and Al scampered back into the house. The children looked terrified.

By the time Al had returned with two towels, Severus had ascertained that the blood had come from a single gash in Potter’s head, in his hair behind his temple. He had a lump the size of a snitch already. He used one of the towels to stop the bleeding and clean up the worst of the mess. A few quick spells and the wound was clean. He quickly conjured ice in the other towel and pressed it to the wound. Potter moaned.

“Da!” 

The girl, who had been hiding behind her brothers, took a brave step forward toward her father. She was wearing a purple and yellow swimming suit. It clashed horribly with her hair.

Potter groaned again. The children took a single, collective step forward.

Potter opened his eyes. His glasses were gone—if he even wore glasses still. How would Snape know that? His hand slowly lifted toward his head. He squinted.

“James?” 

His voice was weak.

“Hardly,” intoned Severus. “Do try to refrain from moving. You’re likely concussed.”

“Alright,” muttered Potter. He closed his eyes again.

Severus looked over at the children.

“One of you, at least, has recognized me. You know I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Is that not enough for you to tell me who the secret keeper is for your cottage?”

James and Al looked at each other.

“You could take him to St. Mungo’s through your Floo,” suggested James after some sort of silent communication passed between the brothers. “Or Apparate with him.”

“What? And leave you three alone here? I think not. I can only imagine, based upon your father’s exploits at Hogwarts, what sort of trouble you three would get up to if left to your own devices.”

They exchanged that look again. He had obviously made a good point. Finally, James sighed.

“I’m prob’ly going to get in a LOT of trouble for this,” he muttered.

“Who?” Severus stared him down.

“Unca Neville.”

Severus blinked. “Neville Longbottom? You are sure?”

“’Course,” answered James, frowning at Severus and folding his arms in front of him suspiciously. “Do you know him? He works at Hogwarts.”

“I know him,” answered Severus, very slowly. “Unfortunately, Professor Longbottom is in the Amazon Jungle on an expedition.” He stood up and waved his wand at Harry, levitating him off the ground. “Children, come. We are going to my cottage.”

“Do you have biscuits?” asked Lily. She had a musical voice and very large eyes.

“I do,” answered Severus.

“We aren’t to leave with strangers,” insisted Albus.

“You’ve already pounded on my door,” replied Severus. “I am no longer a stranger.”

“He’s not a stranger, Al,” said James. “He’s _Snape_.” He half-whispered the last word, an exaggerated theatrical aside. 

“I am not a stranger,” repeated Severus. “And like it or not, I am taking your father with me. If you would like to keep him in your sights, you’d be smart to come with me too.”

The children trudged along behind him. Lily held her father’s hand which bobbed along two feet above ground. 

He settled Harry on the sofa, readjusted the ice pack on his head, then sat the children down at the kitchen table and started them on milk and biscuits. 

Then he collapsed onto his comfortable wingback and stared at Potter.

How had this happened? How had Harry Potter and his brood of children managed to move in next door without him knowing about it? This cottage—this cottage had been given to him by Albus, bequeathed to him in his will nonetheless! The only possible explanation was that Albus had owned two cottages and had given one to Severus and one to Potter, or to someone who had let Potter borrow it for the summer.

He glanced over at the children. They were being good, if quiet meant good, anyway. Al was dunking his biscuit into his milk. He watched Lily work a hole in the middle of hers with her tongue, then stick her finger through the hole and start nibbling around the edges. James was staring at Severus. Severus stared back at him.

“Aren’t you going to _do_ something?” asked James after the staring match continued.

“I am doing something. I’m waiting for your father to wake up.”

“He’s going to be cross,” offered Lily. She dipped a spoon into her milk glass and slurped it into her mouth. 

“He’s going to have a headache,” said Severus. He glanced back at Potter. He couldn’t seem to keep his eyes away for very long. Potter was stretched out on his sofa wearing jewel green swimming shorts and nothing else. Until this very moment, Severus had not once thought of Harry Potter as a sexual being of any kind. But now, if he simply ignored the parts from the shoulders up, staring at Harry Potter on his couch was better than paging through the extremely old issues of _Wizards for Wizards_ he’d found under the bed in the second bedroom. Potter had worked himself up to second in command in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, a miracle even not considering that he had elected to have three children on his own, each carried by a surrogate. Everyone assumed Potter was gay, but there was never proof. Not a boyfriend, not a kiss captured by the photographers that followed him everywhere, not a single tell-all tale from a jilted lover. Nothing.

Severus’ eyes drifted from Potter’s face down his neck. His chest was smooth, nearly hairless, his stomach flat and muscled. He had a cute belly button (he did _not_ just think Potter’s navel was _cute_!) and the beginning of a treasure trail under it, disappearing into his shorts. The shorts were damp but drying. He could make out the outline of Potter’s package. If only he had a camera! He could make a fortune selling photographs of Potter half-naked on his sofa!

“Do you have any ice cream?” asked Lily. She stared at him with eyes so brown they could only be called hazel on the best of days and held not a hint of the green of her namesake. She blinked, then smiled tentatively.

“Ice cream? You’ve just had biscuits!’ he protested. 

“I want my Daddy!” wailed Al suddenly, dropping his head into his hands. “He’s _never_ going to wake up! Never!”

Then Lily started crying, and James looked as if he were about to, and Severus found himself in the kitchen again, scooping chocolate ice cream into three bowls. When each had two scoops in it, he sighed, pulled out a fourth bowl and filled it as well. 

He sat in his wingback a few minutes later, eating chocolate ice cream and watching Potter. He was beginning to get concerned. Potter’s breathing was even and his pupils were responding to light when he tested them. Why wasn’t he waking up?

“Who is your caregiver when your father is at work?” asked Severus when he caught James staring at him—again.

“What?” James frowned again. It was a puzzling expression on the boy. It almost reminded Severus of himself.

“Caregiver. Who takes care of you—with whom do you stay while your father is working?”

“He means Uncle Ron,” supplied Al.

“I know who he means,” said James. He turned to Severus and folded his arms across his chest. “Why do you want to know?”

“I want to know who to contact in case your father does not wake up!” said Severus. 

Al burst into tears.

“No! No—that is not what I meant. Stop that infernal racket at _once_!” 

“Is he dead? Is he going to die?” Al continued to sob at the table and Severus was forced to get to his feet and go into the kitchen.

Five minutes and a cup of marshmallows transfigured from sugar cubes later, Severus sat back down on his chair. He glanced over at Harry. Harry’s left eye was half open and he was watching Severus.

“Potter? You are awake?” 

“Snape?” Harry’s voice was weak. He opened his other eye and squinted. “Severus Snape?”

“Da!”

“Keep the ice cream in the kitchen,” commanded Severus. Harry winced as his voice rose. “Remain seated at the table until the ice cream is consumed then wash your hands in the kitchen sink. Use the soap in the bottle to the left and dry your hands on the towel on the oven door. Understood?”

Harry closed his eyes. Severus thought he was smirking behind the groan of pain.

“What happened? Where am I?”

“You are in my cottage. A cottage I inherited from an old friend. I did not know that there was another cottage so close by until your son knocked on my door an hour ago, requesting help.”

“James made me!” piped in Albus. “He said he’s stay with you since you were lying on the floor bleeding and he sent me next door to get help. And I did! I got help from Mr. Snape. Only I didn’t know it was Mr. Snape that lived here, did I, Da?”

“You were bleeding really bad, Dad,” said James. “I didn’t want Lils slipping in the blood or anything so I sent Al over here.”

“We got biscuits!” added Lily. “And ice cream!”

Harry moved his head fractionally and squinted into the kitchen, then back at Snape.

“Biscuits _and_ ice cream, Snape?”

Snape ignored him. He turned toward the children.“I am going to fetch some potions for your father. You are to stay in the kitchen, understand? You can speak with him for a few minutes after I get back and after he has had his potions. Agreed?”

“Yes, Mister,” answered Lily.

“Yes, sir,” answered James.

“Aye, Aye, Captain,” said Al, cheekily. 

Five minutes later, Harry had swallowed a healing potion, a blood replenishing potion and a pain potion. Severus brought him a pillow and a quilt from the spare bedroom and allowed the children ten minutes with him to assure themselves their father was not going to die.

“I held your hand, Daddy,” said Lily, “all the way here from our house.”

“Thank you for doing that, Lils,” said Harry. “I wasn’t scared at all with you there.”

“I’m sorry if we made a mess dragging you outside so Mr. Snape could help you, Da,” said James. He was sitting on the sofa at Harry’s head. “The blood got smeared all over the floor.”

“A quick Scourgify will take care of that, James,” assured Harry. “No worries.” He tousled his son’s hair.

“And I went for help! All by myself!” Al puffed out his skinny little chest in pride.

“You did indeed. And I imagine it was quite scary coming over here to Mr. Snape’s cottage, wasn’t it?”

“Oh, yes! Really very scary! He wasn’t wearing any shoes when he answered the door and he looked very cross!”

Snape had listened to the childish theatrics long enough.

“Enough. Your father needs to sleep. We shall wake him every hour to check on him.”

He repositioned the ice pack on Harry’s head, dimmed the lights in the room and ushered the children onto the back porch.

“Don’t you have any games?” asked Al, looking without interest at the parchment and pencils Severus placed on the table.

“Yeah! Exploding Snap or Gobstones!” said James.

Severus sighed. He _did_ in fact have games. A whole cupboard full of them, in fact. After all, this cottage _had_ belonged to Albus Dumbledore.

“Fine. You—“ he pointed at James, “come with me. You may pick out ONE game from the cupboard. You are to play that game until it is time to wake up your father again and to play it without bothering me. Do you understand?”

James nodded gravely and went into the spare bedroom with Severus, crawling into the back of the cupboard and coming out a few minutes later with Chutes and Ladders. The box was very old.

Severus carried the game out onto the porch. The children stood on their tippy toes trying to peak into the box as he opened it.

“Whoa!” shouted Albus as the board unfolded on its own then expanded magically until it was the size of a rug. The children scampered back out of the way as the rug-like playing board draped itself over Severus’ head. He fought his way out from beneath it and stood there, panting, as the rug magically sorted itself out and laid itself over the bare floor. Lily was on it in no time, sitting down atop the square marked sixty-two and sliding all the way down to twelve.

“We’re the pieces!” exclaimed Albus. Why was everything that boy said punctuated by an exclamation point? “You’ll have to spin for us!”

The spinner, which had fallen out of the box and expanded along with the rest of the game, was now the size of a dinner platter. Severus reluctantly picked it up and gave it a whirl.

An hour later, Severus had to admit that wizarding Chutes and Ladders beat the hell out of the traditional board game. The magical board, which seemed to be two-dimensional but was obviously not, sported actual ladders and slides. The boys cheated to deliberately land on eighty-seven, the top of the giant slide, even though it meant losing the game for sure. There were a few bumps and bruises to patch up, but the hour had passed quickly. He left the children to put the game away then woke Potter up, checked his pupils, gave him another blood replenishing potion, helped him turn over, ogled his arse, then went into the kitchen to wash the ice cream bowls.

“I need to go potty.” Albus stood there, hand between his legs, jumping from foot to foot.

“First door on your left in the corridor,” Severus instructed. “And wash your hands!” he called out as the little boy dashed off to do his business.

He didn’t hear Albus return, but he did hear the toilet flush and the water run. James and Lily were drawing contentedly on the parchment he had left them, and he took his time washing the dishes, putting them away and then seeing what he had to offer the children for dinner. Worst case, he would send James back to the cottage to find something he could prepare that the children would actually eat. He did have bread, eggs, cheese, and sausage. 

And of course, there was always more ice cream.

The children were still drawing quietly when he finished the clean-up and decided to make eggy bread for dinner. It had been nearly an hour, so he woke Harry.

“I could get used to this,” said Harry groggily as Severus helped him sit up. If his hand strayed down to Harry’s arse, it was only to help position him into a less awkward position.

“To someone taking care of you?” asked Severus, holding his hand on Harry’s head to check for fever.

“And the children,” said Harry, smiling weakly.

“Dad! Look what I drew!” 

Albus came running into the room, Lily at his side. They were each carrying parchment rolls.

“Mine first! Mine first!” pleaded Lily, handing her roll to Harry.

Harry unrolled the parchment and smoothed it out on his lap. They all stared down at it.

“Lily, this is beautiful!” cooed Harry. “Look, it’s two wizards with their wands.”

Severus leaned over. Lily Potter was certainly not a candidate for the _Ecole des Beaux-Arts._

Albus held out his scroll. “Now mine.”

Harry obligingly unrolled the parchment. Severus leaned in again and stared down at the drawing.

Albus, unlike his sister, showed surprising talent in figure drawing.

Extremely accurate figure drawing. 

Harry’s face reddened. Severus just stared.

“Albus…this is…well, this is very…nice. Accurate. Hmm.”

“This one is you, Da, and that one is Mr. Snape.” Albus pointed to a nude figure with a monstrous, jutting penis and testicles the size of grapefruit, then to an equally nude figure, taller and thinner than the first. The second figure had one hand on his chest where Severus could just make out the outline of nipples and the other on his cock.

“How old are you, Albus?” asked Severus, looking disapprovingly at Harry.

“Five!” answered Albus.

“Al…where did you…I mean, why did you draw _this_ picture for Daddy?” Harry had wrapped an arm around Albus protectively.

“I don’t think those were wands in Lily’s drawing,” said Severus suspiciously.

“It’s from the book in the bathroom!” exclaimed Al happily. “It has all sorts of pictures like this in it. Sometimes, the boys are kissing each other and sometimes they’re wrestling and they have GIANT wllies, Da! Huge! They’re even bigger than yours!”

“The book in the bathroom?” Harry slowly turned his head to stare at Severus.

“Where is this book?” asked Severus quickly.

“James has it,” said Albus. “He’s still drawing his picture.”

“ _Wizards for Wizards_ , Snape?” asked Potter once the children were back in the kitchen with fresh bowls of ice cream.

“I didn’t know I would be having company,” stated Severus. “And it was Albus’ magazine. He left quite a collection of them here.”

Potter was staring at him. “Dumbledore? Dumbledore was…?” He blushed. The color was attractive on him. 

“Oh yes,” answered Severus. “Soft as a chocolate teapot. Queer as a nine bob note.”

“No…” But Harry—Potter—was smiling.

“Yes. Most definitely.”

Potter raised an eyebrow. “Looks like we’re all in the same club, then,” he said enigmatically.

Severus stared at him as he closed his eyes and settled back on the sofa. “We’re Dumbledore’s men,” he muttered. “Through and through.”

He lined the children up a few minutes later, hit them with an aggressive sun-block charm, armed them each with a beach towel (Albus had kept a ridiculous number of them around), and marched them down to the shore. After careful consideration, he put buoyancy charms on them, though James protested, and sat down in his favorite chair to read _The Daily Prophet_ while the children played in the waves.

The sand was particularly perfect today for castles, and Albus and Lily set about it almost immediately. Severus’ eyes drifted from the headline in the Leisure section ( _Seaside Get-a-ways for the Discriminating Wizard or Witch_ ) to the architectural monstrosity in progress. Al did indeed have a flair for the creative arts. He turned back to his paper and paged over to the sports. ( _Weasley Takes Bludger to Head in Win Over Wasps_ ) Hmm. Ginevra Weasley was still at it. He glanced over at the children, tilting his head to the side to examine Lily’s features, then James’. Perhaps…perhaps… it would make sense, would it not, that Ginny Weasley would have helped Harry Potter build a family, even though they had gone about it in a not-quite-so-traditional way.

Ten minutes later, Albus was tugging on his hand.

“Will you help us Mister? Please?”

Severus glanced up from the paper. He’d been reading the Dear Auntie Mathilda column. Dear Auntie Mathilda dispensed all sorts of advice ranging from household hints to help for the lovelorn. Al looked distraught. James and Lily were sitting on the sand around the castle. Six little eyes stared at him.

“We want it to look like Hogwarts. Da always helps us with a spell.” Al’s bright green eyes looked hopefully at him.

“Pu-leeeze Mister?” said Lily.

“He’s not our Dad,” said James, pouting.

Well, that did it. 

The castle, when they finished it together thirty minutes later, was magnificent. Severus even summoned a small fish from the ocean to put into the moat. 

They were a mess when he got them back to the cottage.

“We need a bath,” said Al. “Do you have a bathtub, Mister?”

Children _wanting_ to take a bath?

“I have a shower,” he said. “I will rinse Lily off then you two may rinse off.”

“I need to shampoo my hair,” pouted Albus. “Do you have shampoo?”

“Do I have shampoo? Of _course_ I have shampoo!”

He sent James back to their cottage to fetch clean clothes for all of them.

“Mind the blood. Do _not_ run. If you fall and hurt yourself, we will not know. Now go!”

He checked on Harry, brought him a glass of water, administered another pain potion, then stripped Lily of the obnoxious bathing suit and put her in the shower. How _did_ the sand get where it got, anyway? He ended up transfiguring the showerhead into a hose with a spray nozzle at the end and when James returned with the clothes, had her clean and wrapped in a towel.

By the time the boys were out, dry and dressed, it was time to wake Harry again.

“You need to eat something,” Severus said quietly. Lily had dropped off to sleep on the rug in front of the fireplace. Al and James were working on a puzzle he had allowed them to fish out of the bedroom cupboard.

“What time is it?” asked Harry, stretching. He winced as his head slid against the pillow.

“Half five,” answered Severus. “How does an omelet sound?”

Eggs apparently sounded good to all the Potter men.

Lily woke up just in time to accept a plateful of eggs and a piece of toast. Severus cut it into triangles—eight bite-sized ones, to be precise. The children went back to their puzzle while Severus settled onto the sofa at Harry’s feet. Harry was propped up on the opposite end, feed tucked up. Severus handed him a plate and balanced his own on his knees.

“You’ve gone through quite a bit of effort today,” said Harry. He forked a piece of omelet. “This is delicious.”

“I could hardly leave you bleeding on the floor and your children running about unsupervised,” replied Severus.

“Hardly,” agreed Harry. He smiled as he took another bite of omelet.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Harry stretched and his toes pressed into Severus’ thigh. Severus looked up from his plate slowly and met Harry’s gaze.

Harry smiled. “Dumbledore’s men, eh?” he said.

Severus’ hand moved to Harry’s foot. He squeezed his toes. His hand lingered on the foot. 

“Through and through,” answered Severus.

“Do you have any books?” asked Albus. He was looking curiously at Severus’ hand, which was now on Harry’s ankle.

“More picture books,” added Lily, nodding.

James looked up from the puzzle. “She means _story_ books,” he corrected quickly.

“Oh, I’m sure you have those other _picture_ books for the articles, right Severus?” Harry said, very quietly.

“I have _The Tales of Beetle the Bard,_ of course,” said Severus. 

“Babbity Rabbity!” said Lily, getting to her feet then jumping up and down in excitement in a fair impersonation of a rabbit.

“She always wants stupid ol’ Babbity Rabbity,” groused Al.

“And you prefer…?” asked Severus.

“Three Brothers,” said Al. “Obviously.”

Lily was louder than Al, and much more insistent, so Babbity Rabbity it was.

So it was that Harry drew up his legs, and Severus scooted over closer to him to make room on the sofa, and Al crawled up beside Severus, and James beside him, and Lily into Harry’s lap, and Severus opened the worn copy of the book that had been on the shelf in the second bedroom for half a century or more and began to read.

“A long time ago, in a far-off land, there lived a foolish King who decided that he alone should have the power of Magic…”

“I like your voice,” said Al, snuggling up tighter against Severus.

“What’s his name?” asked Lily.

“Whose name?” asked Severus.

“The King’s name!” said James. “She always asks that.”

“He doesn’t have a name,” answered Severus. “He therefore commanded the head of his army….”

“His name is Woger,” said Lily. She kicked Severus in the leg.

“Woger?” He glanced over at Harry. Harry was smirking.

“Woger,” repeated Lily. “King Woger.”

“If you knew his name, why did you ask?” said Severus, glaring not-too-kindly at the little girl.

“You’re funny,” said James. “I like you.”

And with that proclamation, the Potter children settled back in, turned their heads back toward the book and listened quietly while Severus finished the story. And when Harry worked his toes under Severus’ arse as Severus read, punctuating important parts of the story with gentle presses against the sparse flesh of the trim derriere, Severus hoped—hoped quite deeply and fervently—that Harry’s injury had not affected his brain. For it was early in the summer still, and his four poster bed was wide and comfortable, and there was plenty of chocolate ice cream in the freezer.

_And they all lived happily ever after..._

_The End_


End file.
